


Calypso

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But it mainly explores, Desert Island Fic, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Isolation, Lonliness, M/M, So I guess it has, There's a little bit of comedy here, and such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: After having stranded on an island after a shipwreck, Courfeyrac had gotten used to living in a certain way- a certain way which didn’t involve another man becoming washed up ashore as well.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	Calypso

**Author's Note:**

> I started singing: “Crazy… I’m fucking crazy…. Maybe just maybe… I’ll make it alone… // Rescued… I thought I was rescued…” and I thought woah, what the fuck, me? Then I listened to the entirety of Swiss Army Man soundtrack on a loop while I fell asleep. Then I came up with this wacky story.

It was no hallucination. Courfeyrac had woken up drenched in water and his body half emerged in water and understood what had happened. In the first minute he had opened his eyes he saw his own life lie out in front of him. He needed to survive.

It had been like this for several years. He lived off of seafood and coconut water and had no one to talk to. No companions apart from lonely crabs every now and then. In fact, sometimes he would initiate a full, lengthy, analytical conversation with himself until he would sigh and scream in frustration. Not even he himself was interesting enough to maintain an hour-long conversation. Really, there was nothing to talk about. Life was mundane believe it or not. Every time the sun rose, he knew it would set. Every time he would look up at the sky, he knew no one was searching for him. Every time he would look out at the sea, he knew all he had were the sounds of the waves and the image of the vast, endless ocean, and… a… something... He saw an unrecognisable object floating in the sea.

Courfeyrac stumbled out into the sea, and walked towards what seemed like an animal carcass or a large log- whatever it was, he wondered if he could make any use out of it. As his feet dug deeper into the water, he reached out for the alien object and he realised it was a human body. Believing it to be dead, he jolted backwards and fell. A wave hit him, disabling him to breathe for a few seconds. Within this short period of time, Courfeyrac was reminded of his isolation. As the water washed through him, Courfeyrac felt a literal wave of determination as he stood up and dragged the body to the sandy ground.

The body was quite heavy, weighed down my muscles. By the time Courfeyrac managed to transport the body, he needed time to rest to get his breathing back to normal. Lying down, staring at the sunset, he remembered that he didn’t check the man’s pulse to check if he was alive. Panicking, he sat up too quickly, blood rushing to his head, as he tapped the man’s chest since he didn’t know what he should be doing. Then he remembered how he woke up- water spat out of his mouth as his lung returned back to its normal, functioning state.  
So, he turned the man to his side as he whispered to himself, “Fuck. Why couldn’t this be knowledge that we’re born with as humans?”  
As the man didn’t cough out any water, Courfeyrac muttered something under his breath as he stuck his fingers into the man’s throat. He would rather not say how he knew about gag reflexes.

Much to his surprise, this tactic worked as the man almost vomited water. After he did so, he took the deepest breath he could, sounding so painful to Courfeyrac’s ears. He could remember how he felt when he first woke up- how alienating it was. How lonely it felt.

In order to comfort the stranger and show that there was a carer, he caressed the man’s head and murmured, “You’re alright, now. I’m here.”  
The man blinked his eyes several times, supposedly to let the light in and to understand his situation. His mouth barely moved, “Are you...?” His voice was hoarse. “Are you an angel?”  
“What’s an angel?”  
With that, the stranger lost his consciousness, becoming limp once more.  
Believing this to have been his fault, Courfeyrac begged, “Oh no, no, no! Yes, I’m an angel. I know what an angel is!”  
Unfortunately his speech didn’t help as the man didn’t awake.

Gradually Courfeyrac began to sob. It wasn’t fair: he finally found someone to talk to and be with and he only experienced this paradise for a couple of seconds. The world lost its light again, and Courfeyrac wanted to crawl back to his shelter.

His shelter.

Maybe the man needed shade!

Excited yet extremely nervous, he dragged the heavy man a couple of metres into his shelter in the shore which was built only when he wanted to rest, not to actually live in. He waited impatiently. The man still hadn’t regained consciousness.

Consumed by sheer panic, Courfeyrac’s thoughts blinded him as he wondered how he could help the man. He looked to his side and saw left over crab meat and grabbed for it and stuffed it into the man’s mouth. Moving his jaw manually, he tried to make him swallow the food. Upon realising his goal wasn’t happening, he ran over to retrieve a coconut and split it open in record time as he tried to pour the juice into his mouth. This recreated the look of him drowning as the water dripped out of his mouth and Courfeyrac yelled, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

At this point he was drained of ideas. In his last attempt, he slapped the man. Unfortunately, nada. Nothing happened. Apart from a red glow that appeared on the man’s cheek. Apologetic, Courfeyrac touched the red mark, thinking rubbing it would make the pain disappear. But he couldn’t remove his hand. There was warmth… His cheek was hot. Not like a boiling water hot nor a scorching sun hot, but hot as in comfort. Like fire in an empty mansion, keeping him safe from all his troubles and worries.

A small smile twitched in Courfeyrac’s mouth- it had been a long time since he involuntarily smiled. It was a great feeling. Happiness that could not be contained. It all unravelled because of this one man. All the emotion he had forgotten to miss were revived. Just by touching his cheek. “You’re so warm.” He commented quietly, “I feel like I can hold you forever.”  
The man’s eyes shot open and Courfeyrac yelped as he ran a couple of feet away until realising there was no reason for him to be escaping this situation. So, slowly he turned around and walked back to him.  
“Hi.” He managed to get out.  
“Hello.” The man knitted his eyebrows, confused about everything it seemed. Grunting, he tried to stand up. He succeeded but immediately failed as soon as he took his first step- falling.

Fortunately, Courfeyrac’s reflexes were fast and he caught the man in his arms. The stranger then wrapped his arms around Courfeyrac which sucked the air out of his lungs even though his grip wasn’t tight. “I’m so exhausted… My legs… They aren’t…” He huffed out.  
Courfeyrac nodded, making sure the man understood that he knew what he was going through.

It was as if his mind was transported elsewhere as Courfeyrac was reminded of when he was a child. Quite clearly he remembered his first girlfriend and holding hands with her- it was a big deal. When their two lips met when they were twelve, it felt like fireworks. Not the actual kiss itself, but the moments leading up to the kiss were magical. It was this anticipation. He knew this was going to float around his memory bank forever. This moment. His first kiss.  
Why think of this? It was because as Courfeyrac was going to wrap his arms around the man, there was the exact same feeling. The drumroll banging in his ears, blood swarming around his cheeks, his heart pounding like mad. It was the moment he had craved without explicitly knowing.

And just like leaning into the kiss, his arms enveloped the stranger. He made sure it wasn’t just his hands which touched his wet back, but also his forearms. The feeling of the unfamiliar heat brought tears to his eyes as he leaned in towards the man and almost stroked him, pressing his arms hard against him. This was a fleeting moment; he had to consume as much as he could. He allowed his arms to explore the man’s back, almost whimpering as he did so. There was a human. In front of him, there was a human. He couldn’t believe it. Another person. Just like him. Just like—  
“Can you help me sit back down? I can’t even balance, I don’t think.” The man said, trying to push out a chuckle to normalise the situation.

Snapping back into reality, somehow making his vision more blurry, Courfeyrac mumbled, “Y- Ye- Yeah. Of course.”

Gently, he lead the man back to his seat, still embracing the man as he did so. His mind was constantly eroded with thoughts of pressing his lips against the man’s collar bones and breathing in his scent; sweat and all. But he knew he was obsessive enough and controlled himself.

As their bodies teared away, Courfeyrac breathed again as if he was underwater before. With his misty eyes and pain scratching his voice, he shouted, “I’m going to catch fish! You can have fish to eat!” Then he stormed off to the sea.

There was a theory which Courfeyrac had read about years ago: humans could sense when someone was watching them. It really seemed like there was an anecdotal evidence for this. If he were to look back he could be proven wrong or proven correct. Either way, it made Courfeyrac sweat excessively. He didn’t know which answer he would have preferred.  
Instead, he tried to focus on capturing fish.

In the end, he managed to catch three, which was impressive as the light was dissolving by then. The freshest fish was still moving and managed to leap out of his arms and slap his face before liberating itself completely by reuniting with the water below. Embarrassed, Courfeyrac refused to look at how the stranger would perceive him.

It was at this point he highlighted the fact that he didn’t know the man’s name. But if he were to ask, what if the man didn’t want to reply back? That would surely be ridiculous. They were stuck in the island anyway… There was no way he would refuse to converse. Then he remembered something he built a year or so ago. If he were to find it… He bit his lip then shook his head.  
“Are you alright?” The man asked, still sitting down.  
His eyes widened in fear and further embarrassment, “Yes. Let me make fire for you. That way we can cook... This.” He lifted the two fish high in the air.  
This made the man chuckle. It felt like fire crackling- soft and sheltered. It was, by far, the prettiest laugh he had heard- much better than his own when he found on of his lame jokes funny. This was real. Courfeyrac smiled back, lingering in their eye contact for a second too long before carrying on his task.  
The man shifted in his seat and covered his mouth to hide a smile of adoration. This was not the time.

With tinder and armed with a stick, Courfeyrac began a fire. It was the only useful knowledge he learnt from back at home from camping. Being the son, he had to learn how to survive, but woke up with an amnesia after finishing his camping due to the cruel infection called boredom. Although he was able to remember how to start a fire solely because he succeeded in his first try while others couldn’t even create a spark. For a minute there, he was a son his family was proud of… Not some scum who had “a disease”.  
As Courfeyrac had many stories he told to himself, he thought about telling this one but couldn’t go beyond just opening his mouth. He was going to make the man feel uncomfortable from knowing he was a homosexual. He would run away. Then he would have nobody. Again.

The man crawled down to the sand and heaved himself next to Courfeyrac, there hands accidentally touching before the man retrieved his hand away.  
“Um, what’s your—?”  
“I’m going to tell you the truth.” He spoke in a low voice, “Because I like you.” They shared a glance. “I’m going to be honest.”  
“What is it?” Courfeyrac pushed back his hair so he could look at him clearer.  
He watched the small fire dance and spark. “I… Was a prisoner. I was being transported in a ship.”  
“Oh.” He wanted to pull himself away, slightly frightened. “What was your crime?”

The man sighed. “Being born.” He said nonchalantly. He tried to smile. “I was punished for something I had no control over. God, it feels so good to say that.” He looked up at the darkening sky, “I escaped. Without knowing my consequence, I jumped into the unknown sea. Let fate decide what will happen. And you know what? I’m glad. I’m glad I ended up here. With you.” He then furrowed his eyebrows as he faced him, “Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask how you ended up here.”  
Courfeyrac gave an innocent smile as he had narrated the event to himself before, acting like a rehearsal for this moment, “Shipwreck. I was the only one who survived. Of course, I was in denial at first, but,” He nodded, “I’ve accepted it now.”  
“I’m so sorry,” The man placed his hand on his shoulder. Instantly, Courfeyrac wanted to embrace the man, but he willed himself against it. “Was there family on the ship?”  
Courfeyrac looked down at his hands. “No. My fiancée was supposed to come with me, but she became ill that week. Talk about luck.” Since he had talked about this several times, he managed to speak with lightness in his voice.  
“Oh.” The man patted his back then didn’t remove his hand, “I’m sure she misses you.”  
Courfeyrac shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t like wo…” He bit his lip. “… Anyway. I didn’t like her anyway. It was more of a forced marriage.” There was an awkward silence between the two. “I think your fish is ready.”

Initially, the man held back, trying to eat politely, but when Courfeyrac looked away, he started eating like it was his first food. Expecting this to happen, Courfeyrac didn’t eat his fish, and reserved it for the foreign man. “What is your name?” Courfeyrac muttered before repeating it louder, “What are you called?”  
With mouthful of fish in his mouth, the man replied. It was difficult to make out, but he was sure it ended with a ‘Ferre’ sound.  
Courfeyrac nodded and handed him the other fish. “I’m Courfeyrac.” He said as he watched Ferre nod, his eyes captured by the food in his hands. “I’m going to fish more, Ferre. I’ll be back soon.” With that, he stood up and walked away, scared Ferre would have noticed he called him the wrong name. Hastily looking back, the man continued eating, so he didn’t think much of it.

The way he caught fish was just to stand around and use his hands to catch them. For all the years he was stranded, he never figured out how fishing rods worked. So, alone, he meandered about, searching with his poor eyesight and the fading natural light. As he searched for fish, a memory gnawed at him from the back of his mind. He made a boat. He could have excaped- ventured out- search for help. Whimpering, he argued with himself if he should tell Ferre- he would find out anyway…  
“You do realise you mutter to yourself a lot, right?”  
Caught by surprise, Courfeyrac turned to see Ferre beaming next to him. “N-no.” He was so deep in his thoughts he didn't realise Ferre had followed him. Surely, it was out of sympathy. What other emotion could drive the man to follow him?  
“I guess that’s what happens when you’re alone.” He thought out loud, “Fortunately for you, you have me now.”  
“Ri-right…” Courfeyrac agreed, a smile growing on his face. “I have you now…”  
He chuckled, “And my name’s Combeferre. But I like 'Ferre'. If we get home, I’m going to adopt that name.”

‘If’… Courfeyrac’s arms drooped down as Ferre beside him tried to search for fish. “You can go home, you know.”  
“What?” He laughed, confused.  
“I… I have a boat.”  
“What?” His eyebrows lifted.  
“It’s not so far from here. You can go. Home.” The last word seemed alien to his lips. “Home.” He echoed, hoping this time it would bring hope to his heart. It didn’t. There was nothing and no-one he missed. Pathetic…

In bursts of laughter, Ferre rejoiced, “So we can go back home? Well, I suppose I would have to find foreign lands where they are more accepting towards me- but I believe there’s a civilisation out there which would be like that! What do you think?” He was breathless from his fast paced talking.  
There was so much joy in his expression, he couldn’t help but smile back. But there was no warmth in his eyes- just regret. “I can’t go.”  
Ferre grabbed his arms, “What are you talking about, Courf? We can leave! This is great!” He kissed his cheek as he dragged him by his hand, “Tell me where to go!”

“No!” He pulled his hand away. “No.” He whispered. “I can’t go. The world doesn’t want me. That is why I was abandoned.”  
“Don’t say that—“  
“I’m a homosexual and I was an immigrant. You think I can be accepted?” He scoffed. “I like being alone. This is my home.”  
“You’re being delusional right now, Courf, it doesn’t matter.”  
“Of course it doesn’t matter if you keep quiet about it. But I don’t want to lie to myself- or to anyone- anymore. I want to live life. If that means being away from human civilisation, then fuck them. I’m staying here.” He held his hand. “But you can go. I don’t want to hold you back.”  
“Courf…” He weakly called out.  
“It’s okay.”

After a moment of silence Ferre caressed his cheeks. “I’m coming back for you. When I find an accepting society, I’m going to bring you with me. We can live together! We can… Have pet crabs! We’ll not eat any more seafood together!”  
Courfeyrac couldn’t help but smile. The fantasy itself would be enough to fuel him. Even if it meant never seeing him again. “I’d like that.”  
Ferre whispered. “Me too.” He kissed his forehead. The kiss felt like an eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> Um… I’m not the only one who wears a hat when I can’t concentrate on my writing, and find it easier to type away as soon as put on the “Thinking Hat”? Right????? Am I the odd one out?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Leo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984313) by [A_Butter_Churner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Butter_Churner/pseuds/A_Butter_Churner)




End file.
